Gods and Monsters
by nothing-chan
Summary: Making a deal with the demon Alfred never turned out the way it was planned, and Arthur found himself pressed up against a wall, hands bound painfully, body quivering.


**WARNING: NON-CON AND BONDAGE**

_Gods and Monsters - Lana Del Rey_

* * *

Arthur felt the clammy stone under his hands and it pressed like death against his skin, ragged and bumpy and full of notches and holes that made his hair creep.

He did not want to be here, surrounded by nothing but cavernous stone, utterly alone in front of the fanged man with nighttime hair. But he had to, business, work, the contract between angel and demon very tentative and tenuous.

"So, what you're saying," he shifted on his harrowing throne, running spider fingers over his lips, "I need to give this man back?"

"Well… yes, there was a misunderstanding. This man was a very good man, he doesn't deserve to be here," Arthur's wings quivered as he stood, pitch clothes making him camouflage into the darkness.

"I suppose I could, but not without a price."

The angel watched as the young devil's eyes flashed under the barren lighting, precarious and oh so lovely.

* * *

"Th-This isn't what I thought you meant, I can't do this! I can't-" Arthur froze mid-sentence as he was slung toward the dew walls, face serrated by the pebbles.

"Shut up, you made a deal, now deal with it," Alfred was his name, and his voice was so close to the shell of his ear Arthur thought maybe he would sear it off, sweltering breath a lighter setting off the cold of the cave. Arthur did his best to struggle, hands clamped tight against his back, overtaken by just one of the demon's tenacious fists.

"Let go of me, let go! You can't do this to me, I'll be killed! I-I'll kill you, let go!" Arthur was desperate, face grinding up and down against the wall as he struggled against his captor.

"The little angel, killing me? Perfect," Alfred slid his face until his eyes were boring into Arthur's, but the blonde made sure he did not make contact, mouth trembling and eyes strung to the dark entrance of the hell, "No, I'm not giving up, I never give up. When was the last time I gave up on something as beautiful as you?"

The compliment made Arthur want to scream, throat overflowing with jumping fear, so he did just that, screeching as loud as his strained voice box would let him, echoing far into the distant dimness. The call was short lived, as Alfred secured his hand over Arthur's mouth, smelling of dank wood.

"I said shut up, put your hands on the wall," Arthur could not have objected if he tried, both of Alfred's calloused hands shoving the limp limbs over his head, succeeding in using only one to keep them pinned there.

"You're a fighter, I like that, but I can't have you run away in the middle of our fun. I don't appreciate teases," Arthur's breath hurt inside his chest as he heard him reach into his back pocket, pulling out a vine of honed thorn, writhing in his hand like a centipede. "Besides, it'll be more interesting this way, I think you might like it."

"Please don't, please don't, this is disgusting, don't," Arthur sang over and over and over as Alfred reached up to wind the bondage around his wrists. It stung, it curdled, it ripped into his sensitive skin, drawing angel blood from angel veins, making his green eyes prickle with every tug of the vine. Alfred seemed to enjoy it, face an everlasting glacier smiling as he coiled it up his restrained hands, leaving the whole of Arthur's brain no longer on the imminent debauchery, but the pain, all of the pain howling to his brain to do something, anything.

Arthur began to let out drops of water as a thorn dug under his nail, shredding the sensitive skin under the soft appendage. Alfred sat for a moment, before reaching forward to sweep the tears away, so gentle and benign Arthur began to choke on his own saliva.

"Don't cry, I'll make you feel better," his hands traveled from the wetness of his face to his frail frame, sliding the strap of his dress over his shoulder, pushing down the fabric to reveal his hammering chest to the frigidness of the wall. Alfred's hands began to slowly skate around the skin, fixing on his nipples, pulling and rolling and fondling the area until it was red and numb.

"Does it feel good?" Alfred breathed, now significantly closer, and Arthur attempted to remain ignorant to the soft pressure he was applying with his waist. The bound angel shook his head, because in all truthfulness it did not feel good. He was so focused on the hurt resounding from his hands he had no time to pay attention to whether it felt good or not, because it did not matter, getting any pleasure out of this would be like enjoying a lion kill an infant gazelle.

But Alfred probably did enjoy watching the death of useless things, and he frowned as he pulled his hands away, leaving Arthur to pant and shiver against the cave wall.

"Come on, don't be difficult," his hands found their way to Arthur's shoulders and he took hold of them, power surging through his grip, "I'm having a good time." Alfred quickly, and without warning, shoved Arthur backward, his backside shifting up against his contained erection. Arthur cried slightly, any movement causing his hands to disintegrate further and further.

"Fuck," he whispered, not for Arthur to hear, but an accidental slip of the mouth, starting up a rhythm of methodical colliding, rubbing and gripping Arthur's shoulders so tight he could have made puncture wounds, nails sharpened and drawn deep into the pale and taut skin.

The small grunts coming from Alfred's throat took up the speechlessness of the cave, weeping rocks looking on with sorrow and pity, watching as Arthur was used like a toy and jerked like a ragdoll against their surface. Startlingly, Alfred's hand shot out to the front of Arthur's groan, enclosing the limp member with his hand.

"N-No," Arthur managed to choke out, but he was past the threshold, if there ever even was one. He had no chance of escape, even at the beginning; he was a victim of the horned devil the minute his sandaled feet glided through the entrance. Alfred was too strong, too fiery and bold to let a trophy like Arthur escape, to let a statuesque angel with wings the texture of silk fly out of his fingertips.

Alfred began to pump, matching the beat of his own rolling, and Arthur tried his hardest to calm himself, to keep his body on lockdown, to lose all feeling in his lower half, but the whole resistance was futile, he was building, slowly climbing the cliff face of ecstasy, the small groans seeping into his brain doing nothing to quell his need.

"You want me to fuck you, huh? You're hard, and you want me to fuck you," Alfred's laugh was low and guttural, ghosting over Arthur's sanguine face, "I'll do it, I'll fuck you."

"Please don't," the words were becoming the only ones Arthur could produce anymore, engrained in his mind to respond to every word with a plea for respite. "Please don't, let me go."

"You don't want that, you want me to fuck you, don't lie," Alfred pulled away, making Arthur tremor, body desperate and icy. The sound of unzipping pants made the pressure in the room rise, barring down on Arthur's temples, making him shake and whisper to himself.

Out of the corner of his hazed eyes he could see Alfred coating his erection in something, blue hair tickling the fog on his glasses. What a handsome boy, what a sick soul, and the boy wired to the wall bit his lip when he looked up, grinning and insidious.

"Are you ready?" He was never ready for the pain tearing him in half, rivaling that of his dripping hands. Arthur screeched, and this time was met with no hand to cover his cries, bellowing into the air, because maybe severing his throat would distract him from the ache below.

Nothing about Alfred was patient or listless, and he began moving right away, punching in and out zealously, ripping apart every nerve inside of Arthur.

"Oh fuck you're tight, holy shit," he swore over and over, at a loss for words, focused so hard on the skyscraper of feeling building in his body, "You're perfect."

Arthur did not know if it was a compliment, but he did not take it as one as he slammed against the wall, sweaty and hopeless and defiled until he quivered. Again Alfred began to touch him, cracked fingers rolling over and over the shaft of his penis, making the impious angel jerk forward.

"No-ah! N-No, no, no, no," he began to collide with Alfred as hard as his legs would let him, suddenly frantic for more, more of whatever it was inside of him, sitting at the base of his stomach, spreading and shocking and growing until his tongue quaked inside his mouth.

"S-See, I told you, you feel great…" Alfred's laugh was an exhalation, smacking Arthur hard against his body until the skin was red, "Ah, fuck, hah, you're perfect you're perfect you're perfect, let me fuck you harder."

"No, I can't, p-please I can't," he could not take the plunge approaching, he could not release the collection of feeling inside of him. He would lose everything impure about himself, he would no longer be an angel, he would be a tainted, worthless adulterer, better belonging in a trashcan than the expansive skies of heaven.

"Just cum, I'll make you cum," it was promise Alfred intended to fulfill, and looked ready to carry out, jerking so fast and pounding so hard the muscles began to burn throughout his body. The thorns poked more and more holes into Arthur's annihilated skin, feeling ambrosial now, mixing the pain and the pleasure and the boy destroying him from behind to make his body convulse and scream into the air, begging for something, anything to free it from the overwhelming consciousness.

"I can't I can't I ca-" Arthur continued to call out until he exploded, crying out into the humid air, feeling nothing but the white heat overtaking his body, gripping at the hideous thorns jammed into his body.

It was like nothing he had ever felt before, and he rode out every inch of it as Alfred spilled inside of him, shoving his mouth against Arthur's neck to keep from yelling, teeth sinking into the dulled skin and bruising with no pain.

Perhaps it was better to be a demon than an angel; perhaps Arthur liked the blood, cum and sweat drenching his body, perhaps he liked Alfred draped over his, shaking and whimpering inside of him.

* * *

_Hello._

_Prrrooooon porn porn. I'm always nervous about writing porn since I don't really like it in my style. Oh well, who cares._

_I'm so into painful bondage omg. Thorns just ahhhmndfgg._

_Please review, favorite, and DON'T THINK ABOUT THIS IN CLASS IT WILL GET AWKWARD WHEN THE TEACHER ASKS WHAT YOU'RE THINKING ABOUT._


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